Zenith
by Emily McDonald
Summary: High points come into our lives when we least expect them; fly us to Heaven and save us from Hell, all while remaining stuck between the two in a land of middle ground. Here we find love and friendship, folly and bravery. This is one such journey.


This was _not _possible. It couldn't be, it just could not be. He told himself this sternly as he stood silently in the forest; his body, so unfamiliar with the pubescent changes it was now experiencing, flooded with testosterone in a way he had never before felt, his muscles tight with anticipation and concentration. It wasn't her. So why, he wondered, was he hearing her voice?

And yet...no, he told himself, absolutely not. She was dead. _Dead_. She had been for nearly a month. He had seen her body; lifeless and cold, drenched with blood and dirty water, void of the life and happiness he now associated with her. The broken corpse wasn't _her_ anymore, it was a shell. It meant nothing to him without her. Absolutely _nothing_...

The wind stopped, and he listened again. _One Mississippi._ What was wrong with him, anyway? Was he crazy? He was slightly disturbed by the fact he didn't care if he was or not._ Two Mississippi_. She wasn't here. He knew it. Why did he enjoy torturing himself like this? _Three Mississippi_. Desolation began to settle over him like a crushing weight.

And then - "_Jess!_" The call was faint, but he heard it. He knew it; the voice. The voice he had thought he would never hear again was out there somewhere, calling his name. Did he dare hope? His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Barely breathing, he managed to say one word, one name, in response to the call; saying his wildest dream out loud for the world to hear.

"Leslie?"

He wondered if she would be able to hear him; she sounded so far off. But _he _had been able to hear _her_, he reasoned, and she had known he was here, hadn't she? They knew each other instinctively; adrenaline began to shoot through his bloodstream. No answer yet. His heart began to thud unevenly in his chest. Was it all a cruel trick?

"_Jess!_"

Yes. _Yes_. She had heard him! She was _alive_, and she had heard him. She knew him; still, she still wanted him. Terabithia - or God, or both, perhaps - had kept his Queen for him. He never should have doubted her; she would never leave him. But he felt too much joy to feel ashamed of himself.

"_Leslie?_"

"_Jess!_"

He started to run.

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Author's Note:

I apologize for the shortness of this preface; it was normally my plan to post it in unison with the first chapter, but my laptop died, so I haven't begun it yet. I hadn't even planned to write this, but inspiration struck, so I began pounding away at the keys of my net book (which is _horribly _complicated to type on).

As mentioned on my profile, this is a rewrite of the 2007 movie primarily for my own creative purposes, although it is my goal to entertain you somewhat. Some of you may recognize the scene I'm trying to portray here; I ask you, however, to not take it as you will most likely perceive. Many things will change with my rewrite; and this scene is one of them. ;) Now for a few technicalities:

Chapters in _Zenith _will be in third-person point of view with a character-specific perspective; I've already made extensive notes outlying the general bones of "_Jess Voice_" versus "_Leslie Voice_" (both of which will be utilized; sometimes within the same chapter). This preface is the only section of the story which I attempted to be _my _voice, how I have written fiction up to this point, a third-person omnipresent which, although dealing with fleeting thoughts through Jess's psyche, it is not written in "_Jess Voice_". I'm curious to see if you'll be able to pick up on the subtle differences in my narrative style as I switch between Jess and Leslie; I may also try switching to other perspectives (such as May Belle, et cetera) if my readership thinks it fitting. I will really need the feedback of you all in this situation; I'm covering many new hurdles and would appreciate your guidance and support.

I would appreciate it if you would visit my profile and read what I have posted regarding the timeline of this story; it will help your understanding of the content. Also, I'm hoping to establish an update schedule – Sunday every week or two, I'm hoping. We'll see. ;)

As always, _Bridge to Terabithia_ and all of its components absolutely _do not_ belong to me; I bow most humbly and gratefully to those to whom it does actually belong – thank you so much for giving me this wonderful world to play in! Additional thanks to all the members of this tight-knit little community of writers and readers both here at FF dot net and the "A Place for Us" fan site; not only have your own endeavors helped inspire and motivate me to embark on a huge project (this story) that I probably would have balked at otherwise; but your feedback and opinions have helped me grow leaps and bounds as a writer that I shudder to think I would have missed out on otherwise. I hope to grow some more throughout the course of this project, which I'm thinking will probably be my "last hoorah" in the Terabithia fiction world, as this stage of my life is rapidly coming to a close. I look forward to taking this journey with you all, and I sincerely hope you will come to enjoy reading _Zenith _as much as I will enjoy writing it.

Bonzai.

_Emily McDonald, February 2011_.

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Song of the Chapter:

_Slipped Away _by Avril Lavigne

Zenith

Preface


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